


the Warrior of Ice and Fire

by The_Jade_Samurai



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Assassins, Blood and Gore, Elemental Magic, F/M, Gods and Monsters, Jon and the Starks Are Not Related, Lyanna is Not a Stark, Major Mortal Kombat vibes, Ninja, The Great Houses of Westeros are warrior clans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 03:41:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20401093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Jade_Samurai/pseuds/The_Jade_Samurai
Summary: As the Trial of the Gods approaches, determining whether the warlords of Essos be permitted by the gods to conquer Westeros, Rhaegar, Grandmaster of the Targaryen Ninja Clan sends his second son Jon North to complete his training under the tutelage of Grandmaster Eddard Stark, leader of the Stark Assassins.With the powers of Ice and Fire at his command, will Jon fulfill his destiny and stop the impending invasion?





	the Warrior of Ice and Fire

**Author's Note:**

> One of my many stories I'm currently writing. Basically if GoT met Mortal Kombat, hope you guys enjoy.

**For centuries, the great continent of Westeros was ruled by eight warrior clans who possessed great power. The North, ruled by the Stark Clan who were masters of cryomancy. In the South, the Dornish royalty held command over the sands and deserts. The Westerlands, Lannisters and their rivers of gold flowing from the cliffs of Casterly Rock. The House of Arryn in the Vale, rulers of the skies and air. The Tullys in the Riverlands who commanded the waters in the many rivers and lakes to shape the land around them. The Tyrells with their connection to the Green in the Reach, the Baratheons in the Stormlands who were tasked with dominion of the very earth and stone. And finally, the mighty Targaryen Clan who learned control over the most volatile and destructive of the magics in Westeros, fire itself.**

  
**In ancient times, these eight factions warred over each other time and time again, each seeking to gain more land to control. But with their powers and skills in various forms of martial arts, none were able to get an advantage over another by force, and when solving conflict by war became an outdated notion at the beginning of the New Age, these eight clans drifted into the background, letting modern politics dictate the continent's course in history. Instead of seeking to conquer by force, these clans sought to conquer by alliances, hoping to unify Westeros so that it would be stronger than ever before.**

  
**Yet in the East, greedy sorcerers and desert conquerors have always sought to gain a foothold in the fertile lands of Westeros, and the threat of war is ever present in the minds of the two countries' citizens. Millennia ago, a powerful god of Thunder wanted to even the odds and prevent war from ever happening between Essos and Westeros, and founded a great contest of the world's greatest warriors to test their might in combat. **

  
**This is the story of a young man from two clans, trained by the best in both worlds to become the new champion in the Trial of the Gods**.

* * *

Jon's jaw clenched and unclenched over and over again as he pulled his black leather jacket closer to himself in order to keep the freezing cold at bay. He was leaning against the hood of his old mustang, eyeing the numerous teenagers going into Winter Town High's school buildings for the start of school. The cold wind bit at his exposed face and made his dark, shoulder-length hair blow past his grey eyes. Jon noticed many students giving him curious looks and whispering to their friends about the tall dark stranger watching them in the parking lot, but he didn't care.

  
The only reason why Jon was in the North in the first place was because his father Rhaegar, Grandmaster of the Targaryen Clan wanted him to connect with his mother's roots and learn cryomancy to go along with his pyromancy. Jon personally thought it was stupid. He was the best fighter than almost everyone else in his clan, and his fires were so hot his sensei Arthur described it as “dragon and hellfire rolled into one.” Okay sure, because Jon's mother was a Snow, a family almost as old as the Starks and powerful cryomancers themselves, he was born with the innate talent to create ice as well as fire from his bare hands. Father wanted him to learn to master that side of himself as well, even if it was only learning how to make a snowball into a razor-sharp icicle.

  
Alas, Jon couldn't defy his Grandmaster's orders, even if the Grandmaster was his own flesh and blood. So, Jon sighed and grabbed his bag from the cold ground, hefted it carelessly over one shoulder and walked up to the school. He continued to ignore the excited whispers about him as he trudged to the administrator's office, and the woman at the desk who offered him a kind smile (one that he did not return) and handed him his schedule.

  
“If you would take a seat, your companion will be with you in a moment to show you around to your classes,” said the lady politely. Jon nodded and took a seat, crossing his back over so that it was resting on his thighs. He looked around for a moment. The office was neat, with framed photos hanging from the walls displaying the school's achievements. From what Jon could see from a plaque, Winter Town High was well-known for having won both the rugby and martial arts' competitions all across the North. Jon wasn't particularly surprised by the martial arts' part; it made sense seeing as the Stark Clan lived so closely to the city.

  
“Jon Snow?” said a baritone voice. Jon looked up to see a tall, well-muscled young man built like an ox standing over him with a nervous smile on his face. He was wearing a varsity jacket , indicating that he played on the school rugby team. His jet-black hair was cut short and tidy, though he needed a shave based on the five-o'clock shadow growing on his face. His electric-blue eyes were friendly, and when Jon stood up he realised that the kid was almost half a head taller than him.

  
“Hi, I’m Gendry Waters, and I guess you could say I'm your guide of sorts until you know where you're going,” continued the kid.

  
Despite his large stature, Jon suspected that Gendry wouldn't hurt a fly. And the last name indicated that he wasn't a native Northerner.

  
“You're from the Crownlands,” said Jon, speaking for the first time since arriving at school.

  
“My mother's from there but I was born and raised here,” said Gendry.

  
“Oh,” was all Jon could say in response. There was an awkward silence before Gendry straightened up.

  
“Can I see your timetable? It'll help to know where we need to go,” he said nervously.

  
Jon silently handed Gendry the piece of paper, and the larger kid had a look before tutting under his breath.

  
“Well this'll be easy,” he said. “We got History with Mr Luwin. Follow me.”

  
Jon maintained a small distance away from Gendry, only half-listening to what the big kid was saying. The hall they were walking down was lined with lockers, and Jon made a note in the back of his mind to ask Gendry where his locker was. But then Gendry said something that made him perk up.

  
“There are rumours that Mr Luwin actually works for them assassins who live on top of a mountain in the middle of the Wolf's Wood,” said Gendry.

  
“A clan of assassins?” questioned Jon curiously.

  
“Yeah. Apparently there’s a clan of assassin ninjas who live in the North and have been here for thousands of years,” explained Gendry. “We learn a little about them and how they can control ice, and a lot of the older folk reckon that they're still here, though some of the kids our age don't believe that’s true.”

  
“And what do you think of that?” asked Jon.

  
Gendry shrugged. “I have an open mind about it, but I don’t think I believe the magical ice powers part,” he said. Then he gestured to a nearby door. “Here's our stop. You can sit next to me if you like.”

  
Despite Jon's natural tendency to keep people at a distance, he found himself warming up to Gendry. He was a decent kid, Jon supposed. When Jon and Gendry entered the classroom, the chatter of students quieted slightly as they realised an unknown entity had arrived. Again, Jon ignored the looks shot his way as he sat down next to Gendry and pulled out a pen and notebook.

  
Mr Luwin, an elderly man with a balding head entered not long afterwards, his glasses slightly askew.

  
“Apologies for my lateness class,” said Mr Luwin. Jon looked at the clock hanging on the wall above the whiteboard. The old guy was actually right on time, but whatever.

  
“Anyway, let me go through the roll very quickly and then we'll get started on today's lesson,” continued Mr Luwin. He went through the list of kids in attendance, during which Jon looked outside the window next to him. The sky was still grey and dull, though the sun was managing to shine through it easily enough, bathing the school in a pale light. Outside he could see a group of four teenagers running as fast as they could, and Jon noticed that two of them had red hair while the other two had dark brown, almost black hair.

  
“Jon Snow,” said Mr Luwin, bringing Jon back to attention. He looked at the old man, and noticed that while his face still looked pleasant enough, their was a calculating look in his eyes, as well as a hint of recognition.

  
_Maybe this guy serves the Starks after all_, thought Jon. “Present,” he said.

  
“Welcome to Winter Town High. I hope to see great things from you,” said Mr Luwin.

  
_Yep, he definitely knows me._

* * *

History was okay in Jon's opinion. It was certainly a lot better that that boring old Mr Pycelle in King's Landing, as Mr Luwin actually tried to make the subject interesting and exciting. The next class after History was P.E, and the class played dodgeball. After having been forced to avoid getting stabbed by flying daggers, shuriken, arrows and rope darts rubber balls were almost too easy, and Jon didn't allow himself to get touched once. However, this caught the attention of one of the kids who Jon saw outside during History.

  
“Hey! Where'd you learn to move like that?” asked the kid. He was rall and lean, with red, curly hair and blue eyes, which was an interesting contrast to his otherwise-Asian features.

  
“I’m a world champion dodgeball player,” Jon replied dryly. The kid grinned and stuck out his hand.

  
“I'm Robb, Robb Stark,” he said.

  
Jon felt his surprise shoot up. A Stark in Winter Town? As Jon continued to take in the person in front of him, he recognised the signs that Robb was a fighter, maybe even an assassin. He was clearly well-built under the baggy shirt and pants he was wearing, and he carried himself in way that oozed confidence and a hint of danger. He also hadn't been touched by a ball during the game, Jon remembered. The Stark and Targaryen clans used to have a fierce rivalry, what with their powers being the on opposite ends of the elemental spectrum, but Jon's mother’s brief marriage to Rhaegar had seemed to create a truce of sorts between the two clans until her untimely death.

  
“Jon,” he said, not offering his surname. Robb seemed to sense his hesitation, but smiled warmly nonetheless.

  
“Well, it's a pleasure to meet you,” he said. “Lunch is up next, you can come sit with me if you want to.”

  
“Oh, I already said I would sit with Gendry,” said Jon.

  
Robb shrugged. “No biggie. Gendry sits with us anyway,” he waved off.

  
_Why are the people in this place so nice?_ thought Jon. Back in King's Landing, he never bothered to talk with anyone except for his half-siblings Rhaenys and Aegon, as well as their aunt Dany, and the four of them almost always kept to themselves. It was interesting to see that in a place reputed to be cold and harsh, the people who lived here were actually kind and warm.

  
When P.E. finished, Jon followed Gendry and Robb to the cafeteria, where already tonnes of students were gathering with their friends. Gendry beckoned Jon to keep following before they arrived at a table already half-full of teenagers around the same age as them.

  
“Guys, this is the new kid, Jon Snow. Jon Snow, the gang,” introduced Gendry as he placed a hand on Jon's shoulder. Jon glared at the appendage until Gendry took the hint and removed it, and then Jon finally took the time to look at the others. The first person who caught his eye was a girl around the same age as him, maybe slightly younger but very beautiful, with fiery red hair and blue eyes. She also possessed some Asian features like the eyes, nose and shape of her head, making Jon assume she was probably related to Robb. The girl sitting next to her had olive skin, dark brown eyes and hair, indicating that she was a foreigner, possibly of Volantene descent. There was a boy with straight black hair and a cocky, arrogant grin on his face, a chubby boy and a petite girl with dark brown hair, grey eyes and Asian features similar to Robb and the red-haired girl.

  
“This is Theon,” said Robb, pointing to the black-haired kid with the grin, “Sam,” the chubby kid waved, “Talisa,” the Volantene smiled, “and my two sisters, Sansa and Arya.” The redhead girl and the petite one offered a two-finger salute.

  
More Starks, thought Jon.

  
He, Robb and Gendry sat down at the table, with Jon sitting between Robb and his sister Arya. Jon noticed Gendry giving Arya a lovesick expression and decided to store that in his mind for future reference.

  
“So where are you from?” asked Sam.

  
“King's Landing,” said Jon bluntly before taking a bite out of the sandwich he had pulled from his bag.

  
A few pairs of eyes widened slightly at that, and Sansa leaned forward.

  
“So what brings you here? It's pretty odd to get a new kid at our school this time of the year,” said Talisa.

  
“My mother was from the North, and my father wanted me to connect with my Northern roots,” said Jon. While technically it wasn't a lie, he was merely omitting the fun details.

  
“Snow, where have I heard that last name before?” wondered Sansa aloud. She then looked at Robb. “Has Dad ever mentioned that name before?”

  
“Dunno, Dad knows a lot of people,” replied Robb with a shrug.

  
Jon didn't offer anything to help the Starks figure out who he was as he silently consumed his lunch. Once a few more questions were asked (what school did he transfer from, favourite sports, etc.) the conversations drifted off into meaningless babble about school and other things that Jon found pointless. He did carefully observe the three Starks however. Robb and Arya were clearly warriors based on their confidence and the way they carried themselves, and though Sansa certainly seemed dangerous in her own right, she seemed more subdued.

  
It would be interesting to see their skills as combatants later.

* * *

Sansa sat in seiza position as her father paced back and forth in front of her and her siblings, dressed in the blue and black garb that all Stark assassins wore, though his were slightly more elaborate than other to show off his rank as Grandmaster. She chanced a glance to her left at Arya, who looked as confused as she felt, while on her right, Robb was as stiff as a frozen tree branch.

  
Sansa knew that today was the day that Grandmaster Targaryen's son was due to arrive in Winterfell to begin his training as a cryomancer, which explained Dad's nervousness. It was a rare sight to see the leader of the Stark Clan unbalanced in his emotions, so it meant that whoever this person coming was, he was either special or dangerous. Or both. It was only natural to be apprehensive of newcomers, especially this Targaryen ninja coming. Sansa had never heard of anyone with the ability to conjure and control both fire and ice, she'd always been taught that having the ability to control elemental magic only manifested as one form. But this new guy, he could use two forms of magic.

  
Dad paused his pacing suddenly and looked over his shoulder just as the temperature in the training yard rose significantly. Suddenly, a tornado of fire appeared, startling the Stark children and they sprung up in their fighting stances. However, Dad raised a hand to halt them, but Sansa stayed ready as she formed ice daggers in her hands. The plume of flame died down, revealing a warrior in black down on one knee. The newcomer stood up from his kneeling position, allowing Sansa to get a better look.

  
His clothing was almost entirely black, except for the scarlet linings on the tabard and tunics. His clothing was sleeveless, exposing his thick, lean muscled upper arms, though his forearms were covered with steel braces over the top of scarlet cloth. His shoulders and deltoids were protected steel plates strapped together by leather, similar to samurai shoulder plates. He had a dark brown leather belt strapped around his waist, and hanging from the left side were two katana, one shorter than the other in traditional daisho fashion. His head and face were covered by a black hood with yellow lining on the inside, and a blood-red mask that hid the bottom half of his face, leaving only his dark eyes visible.

  
“White Wolf,” greeted Dad.

  
“Grandmaster Stark,” said the Targaryen in a slightly echoed voice from the mask, though it was still clear, and the two bowed to each other. Sansa frowned. The Targaryen’s voice sounded a little familiar. After the greetings, Dad turned back to his children.

  
“These are my children, Robb, Sansa, Arya and Bran,” said Dad. The four Stark children bowed to White Wolf, and he returned the gesture.

  
“Are they trained?” asked White Wolf.

  
Dad nodded. “They are my finest students, and I do not say that out of pride for my children,” he said.

  
“The Starks have been reputed as some of the finest warriors the world has ever seen,” said White Wolf.

  
“My children have yet to prove themselves in real combat,” said Dad. “Yet I've heard that you've seen plenty of action already.”

  
“The Targaryens have always been the first line of defence against Essosi raiders and spies working for the Wise Masters,” replied White Wolf stiffly. To Sansa it sounded as if the Targaryen assassin hated the fact.

  
“They will soon see it,” said Dad gravely. “My children!”

  
Sansa and her siblings all snapped to attention, ready to await their master's orders.

  
“White Wolf is curious to learn of your skills, and asked that he spar with you before beginning his lessons with the rest of our clan,” continued Dad, “Who will go against him first?”

  
Robb immediately stepped forward, an eager glint in his eyes. The oldest Stark son had always pushed himself to be the best warrior in the North, and had proven to be amongst the best, second only to their father. Robb had beaten just about everyone in their clan, and even a few in school competitions, so Sansa suspected that her older brother was keen to test his mettle against new blood.

  
With a silent command, Dad, Sansa, Arya and Bran moved to the edge of the courtyard while Robb and the White Wolf took their places on opposite sides of the training yard. Robb looked impatient to begin, while the White Wolf appeared calm as he got into his fighting pose.

  
“Prepare to have your fires cooled, Targaryen,” said Robb before he lunged forward. Ice daggers formed out of his hands and he swung at the Targaryen, but there was a flash of fire and suddenly he wasn't there. Then there was another flash of fire and the White Wolf reappeared behind Robb.

  
“It's going to take more than snowflakes to put out hellfire,” the White Wolf said calmly. Robb scowled and lunged forward, executing a perfect combo of punches and kicks. To everyone's surprise, the White Wolf easily blocked the attacks before delivering a powerful kick to Robb's stomach, doubling him over. Robb recovered quickly however and from his hands, created a swirl of snow and ice before shooting it towards the White Wolf. The White Wolf countered by shooting out a plume of fire that collided with the ice stream, creating steam that covered the training yard.

  
Robb looked startled and stopped his ice stream, but it proved to be a mistake because the White Wolf teleported behind him again, jumped over him while at the same time wrapping his legs around Robb's head. With a twist, he threw Robb away, and the young Stark crashed into a nearby wooden pillar. Before Robb could recover, the White Wolf launched a rope spear that was concealed within his right bracer at him. Sansa panicked when it seemed that the blade was going to pierce through Robb's skull, but then it struck the pillar right next to Robb's face, splintering through the wood. Robb's eyes widened in surprise, and then the White Wolf pulled the rope spear back, retracting it into his bracer again.

  
“Well done,” said Dad in a pleased voice. The White Wolf walked over and offered a hand to Robb, but he smacked it away and stood up on his own.

  
“Next time will not be so easy,” he growled.

  
“I look forward to it,” replied the White Wolf without any fear in his voice. He gave a quick bow to Robb before walking back to Dad.

  
“Grandmaster Rhaegar was not exaggerating when he told me that you were his best warrior,” said Dad. “The last person who I saw move the way you did was Lyanna, and she was the greatest warrior the Starks have seen in centuries.”

  
“Well, she died protecting me, so I'm not sure if what you just said was a compliment,” said the White Wolf in a bitter tone.

  
Dad looked stricken with sadness, but he nodded and moved to the side to let the White Wolf pass. The fire ninja walked out of the training yard and into the castle, and Sansa was left with a curiosity to know who the White Wolf was that burned inside her. 

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to make Ned Stark an Asian dude because I thought it'd be cool if we had a little ethnic diversity in this world, and his kids are beautiful half Asians because let's be real, half Asian people are the most attractive people in the world.
> 
> Also for reference on the outfits everyone is wearing, Jon is wearing Scorpion's MK11 outfit, but the yellow is black, the black is red and the red underclothes are yellow, and Ned is in Sub Zero's MK11 campaign outfit. The Stark children are wearing the classic Sub Zero outfits.


End file.
